Louis Tomlinson
I was putting on dry clothes in the bedroom, Harry sitting on the bed, his towel still wrapped around his waist. He hadn't said a word yet. Nothing. I stood in the shower with him for several minutes, and even waited in the bathroom for him to finish; yet, he hadn't uttered 2 words yet.
I slipped my shirt on and looked over at him, his eyes staring off. "Hey."
He glanced back, before his eyes fell again.
"Talk, Harry," I whispered to him.
"We just argued... I kinda said a lot of things to him... things he needed to hear," he mumbled out lowly.
He stopped and sat quiet again. He soon got up and grabbed his box, getting a joint from it, then opening the balcony door.
He went back to his bag and found some boxers, dropping his towel and putting them on. He leaned his head forward, fixing his curls, before throwing his head back again and fixing the front. He still wouldn't look at me and I didn't like this at all.
I watched him light the joint and sigh out a hit while he leaned back against the door, his swollen eyes staring off.
"Harry," I said again, "you've gotta talk to me. Why won't you?"
He bit his lip again, even though it was busted itself. I don't think pain was really bothering him at the moment. His pain mentally was a different story.
"I... I don't know what to say to you," he whispered to me, closing his eyes, "I should've left, Louis... I had the chance to leave, but I stayed and I couldn't stop the words from coming out of my mouth... even though I knew how angry he'd get..."
"You're blaming yourself?" I asked him seriously, "really? That's all you're thinking about? How you could've prevented it if you hadn't of told the bastard the fucking truth that he needed to hear?"
Harry didn't look back at me while tears fell again. He wiped them away slowly and sighed.
"He's ruined you," I whispered to him, feeling nothing but an immense amount of pain for him, "he's completely ruined you."
Harry only let more tears fall as he shook his head.
"He's manipulated you so many times that you instantly feel guilty when something happens to you... and you blame yourself instead of who you should blame," I stated to him, my eyes stinging again, "he does control you."
"He doesn't," Harry said back almost immediately.
"Harry, you're so used to it... you're so used to thinking the way you think, for acting the way you act... this is why you lost who you really were. Darren influenced you..."
He didn't say anything... he just kept his eyes down, tears still streaming out.
How did one person become so broken? How was it even possible to be as broken as Harry was; he didn't even realize how broken he was... he didn't realize what this man had done to him since 16.
If Harry had never met Darren, I was 100% sure he would be a completely different person right now. There really was no doubt in my mind on that... Harry had become who he was because of Darren.
Whether Harry even realized that or not, I wasn't sure. But it was obvious now. Harry had chased after so many things... even people, in an attempt to feel; but he was left feeling used and empty every fucking time.
Those words hurt. Because, as I stared at him in front of me, I realized just how true they were.
I understood why he told me that 'guys like him' didn't have those experiences when I asked to make love to him. I understood why Harry sought Jeff as an escape; I understood why Harry even slept with so many other people. He was desperate. He was desperate for something... or maybe he was desperate for acceptance.
My eyes were becoming full again at the thought of him giving himself away to people because he needed to be accepted, even if it was for just mere moments. Harry craved it. He needed it. Suddenly, a lot of his fake facade he had built made sense... it all made sense.
And it was all because of Darren.
Harry put out the joint, rubbing his eyes softly. I really was at a loss for words now. Now that the reasoning behind Harry losing who he really was made sense, it only made this whole situation hurt worse.
And he had picked me... he had picked me to stand beside him through this, even though he felt like he didn't deserve me.
How did I make him see clearly that he deserved everything? He had come a good ways, it felt like. But now, it felt like he had just taken 3 steps back again.
He was always moving forward, then being pulled back into it. How did he or I break this circle, this never ending cycle?
I knew how. Zayn knew how. But Harry... Harry didn't want that. Harry didn't want me or his best friend doing something like that.
"Harry," I whispered to him, causing his eyes to finally meet mine. I couldn't take the silence any longer. "I love you. Alright? I love you. And I'm still here..."
He stared back at me, his face changing... he tried to nod a little as he wiped his eyes once more, "I love you, too."
I pulled him to me, holding him gently in my arms while his head lay against mine, his breath against my ear.
I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of his damp curls. I'd never get used to holding this body against mine; and I never wanted to have to go without it.
As crazy as it sounded, everything that Harry was going through only made me want to fight for him more... because I had come to know who Harry Styles really was... and he was this beautiful, incredible, gentle soul in my arms. He wouldn't hurt anyone... he constantly was kind and he had a real heart of gold. He was so many brilliant things mixed into one... only when he was himself. And I saw that side... I saw it in Doncaster with my family. I saw it when he smiled at me that day we played football in my mum's backyard. I saw, then, what he was really like. I saw it in the way he held me, in the way he laughed at me... I saw it when he looked at me. I saw it when I made love to him the very first time.
I had watched him break so many times now and I had gotten to see the other real side of him... I described that side as the wound that refused to heal. That's basically what it was. It was a wound that would continuously bleed until he found a way to make it stop.
Harry let me go, his fingers on his eyes. His eyes closed again and he cried more. I watched him closely as he finally spoke again.
"Louis, I'm sorry," he started slowly, his voice cracking as he sniffed, "I... I saw him that night... the morning I was sick and you asked why... I met him the night before..."
I stood still watching him, not expecting to hear those words at all.
"You what?"
He pushed his hair back, "yeah... this is who you're giving your life to... someone who can't stop doing something he never should've started doing... don't you get it, yet?"
I stared at him, my mind lost between anger and overwhelming pain; I didn't know how to even respond to this. How could he?
"Why... why would you?" Was all that made it out of my mouth as I kept my eyes on him, "how... how could you fucking do that... how could you meet him after... after all of that?"
He didn't say anything... he lit the joint again, his tears still flowing.
My own were about to escape as I stared at this person... this person I was fighting so hard for; and he had just admitted that he willingly saw the bastard that had ruined him... how did he expect me to cope with that?
I finally turned my eyes away, picked up my sweatshirt and shoes. I put them on quickly, Harry's eyes only glancing at me.
I placed my hands in the pockets of the hoodie, my back to Harry... and I finally allowed the emotions I was fighting to take over. I just quickly wiped the tears away, grabbing my phone and wallet and walking out of the room. And Harry said nothing to stop me.
Then again, maybe that was his purpose in telling me. Maybe he wanted to push me away; maybe he wanted me to hate him, even.
Unfortunately for me, I'd never hate him. That wasn't even possible for me. He meant too much to me now. Though, this hurt. This hurt so fucking much. I couldn't even comprehend it...
"Where you going?" Niall asked me.
"I just... I need to take a walk," I told him as I searched my cigarette box for a joint.
"Everything alright?" Zayn asked me slowly.
I looked back at him, "you knew, didn't you?"
Zayn stared at me confused, "what?"
"You knew Harry met Darren the other night before we went to Ireland and you didn't say a fucking word," I said back my eyes staying on his.
"Louis...," he started with a sigh, "I... I didn't think it was my place..."
"Your place," I nodded a little, "right... glad I'm always left in the dark on everything."
I walked to the door and out into the hallway, heading nowhere in particular. But I had to get away from him... I didn't want to be angry; I didn't want to be upset with him for just being honest with me.
But I couldn't handle it... he kept going through hell... and even putting himself through it. Why did he?
I wasn't sure what I was feeling... I never expected it from him, I know. I didn't expect him to willingly go back to Darren again. Who would do that?
The only thought that kept coming into my head was that Harry felt like he was still tied to him somehow... that he felt like he was still a part of him; that hurt me more than anything.
I had heard of these stories where an abuser's victim would become just like Harry was now... manipulated into feeling guilty when they shouldn't, feeling forced into giving in to their abuser, and even not knowing how to let the person go that was holding them hostage against their will. That had become Harry.... and I knew just how hard it was going to be to change his mentality if he expected to ever have a future away from his captor.
I stopped at the elevator, my eyes staying down... my heart felt like it was shattering; I couldn't handle hearing those words from him after what he had just happened to him. That's the last thing I needed to hear.
I was becoming angrier by the minute, thinking of the shit Harry had done for this manipulative bastard.
I pulled out my phone, dialed Zayn's number... the elevator doors opened but I stepped away from them, fixing my fringe and trying to calm myself down.
"Yeah, man," he said when he picked up.
"Let's go," I spoke into the phone looking around the hallway, "let's fucking go. And let's fucking go now..."
"Yes, sir," was all Zayn said back to me before the call ended.
I stood and waited for him, knowing full well that we could kill the bastard if we went there... somehow, I didn't care anymore. I was too angry. Too fucking angry.
And I was sick of it happening to him... this wasn't going to happen again. I would make sure of it.
Zayn came strolling up the hallway, giving me a small smirk.
"Did Harry ask where I was...."
"No," he replied, "he... he hasn't come out of the room... Louis, you know he expects you to do this, right?"
Who? Harry or Darren?" I asked him quietly.
He smiled a little, "both."
I nodded, "well, if they both expect it, they're both fucking getting it."
I hit the elevator button again and Zayn just stood next to me smiling. He wanted to do this as bad as I did. I knew it.
"Why didn't Horan come?" I joked with Zayn on the ride down.
"He needs to stay with Harry," Zayn replied shortly. "Can't leave him alone."
I looked back at him, "why is that?"
"Harry doesn't need to be alone," he said softly, "he... he doesn't handle it well when he's like this..."
"I can sorta see why," I said, "if he's alone, he's forced to be with himself... and Harry hates himself."
Zayn glanced back at me, but my eyes just stayed ahead as we walked outside.
"What's the plan?" He asked me as we left in his car for Darren's place.
"Don't have one," I turned to him, "don't need one."
Zayn lit a cigarette and sat quiet for this ride... I honestly couldn't believe I was doing this.. actually I could. Because I should've already. I didn't care who Darren was, or if he had tons of people working for him... I cared who Harry was... and I would make the bastard suffer, like Harry had.
"Your phone going off yet?" Zayn asked calmly, his eyes staying on the road.
"No, why?"
"Figured Harry would call you soon," he shrugged a little, "I'm sure he knows where we're going..."
"You think so?" I asked him.
Zayn nodded a little, "he knew I wanted to fucking kill him."
"What happened?" I asked, knowing now was the best time to get the truth out of him on whether or not he had sold Harry out. "To you, I mean?"
Zayn's face changed and he sighed, "I told one of our old friends' where Harry was... I... I didn't know he was working for Darren... till a few guys showed up after I had talked to him."
"Seriously?" I asked staring at him, "someone you're friends with works for Darren?"
Zayn nodded a little, "yeah, well, he knew us both... Harry and me. We hung out a lot back then... I've talked to him for the past 2 years about Harry. I never thought it was a big deal that he wanted to know."
"So, he worked for Darren this entire time?" I asked, "really? How is that possible?"
Zayn shrugged a little, "no idea. But yeah, he does. And I fucking hate the bastard even more. Harry said he was ok... I didn't believe it..."
"It's always going to be 'he's ok' until one day he isn't," I sighed and glanced back out the window.
He shook his head a little and sat back in the seat, his eyes staying forward. "It's funny... when I became friends with Harry, I never pictured either of us standing where we are right now."
"What was it like growing up with Harry?" I decided to ask.
He looked like he was caught off guard by the change of subject, but he smiled a little, "uh, it was great. He was fun..."
"How'd you meet?" I asked curiously.
Zayn smiled more, "uh, I moved to Cheshire when I was 14... my mum had gotten a job there... had to start over basically. I transferred from the school in Bradford, and I met Harry my first day..."
"He seems to be great at meeting new students," I joked with him, causing Zayn to grin even more.
"Yeah, well, he's Harry... he's always been very accepting of everyone," he shrugged a little. "I remembered him showing me around for a week straight... we'd constantly find something to do in the afternoons after school."
I smiled a little as Zayn carried on.
"I stayed with him a lot in school... well, we took turns staying at each other's place," Zayn glanced at me, "we'd sit in my room and play video games... Harry was always better than me."
I laughed a little and Zayn just smiled as he kept driving. "I'd imagine you and Harry shared a lot of things over the years... I mean, you've known him longer than anyone..."
"Well, he didn't share everything with me," he mumbled back, "but you knew that... he didn't tell me when we were younger what happened... and I had never noticed... I mean, I recognized Darren at the university..."
I kept my eyes on him, watching him closely.
"I knew him from the school," Zayn said slowly, "but it never... never crossed my mind that this bastard had transferred, gotten a job at the uni, all because of Harry... I never would've guessed it. Because I never saw the two of them talking when Harry was younger..."
"You just thought he took an interest in Harry when he moved to London," I nodded a little, "that's what Harry said."
"Yeah," he whispered, "and I couldn't understand why he kept it from me..."
"I think you do understand that," I said back quietly, Zayn's eyes meeting mine, "I understand it... Harry didn't want anyone else burdened with it... he was ashamed of it... he still is."
Zayn tried to nod as he started talking again, "there were so many times that I asked him to be honest with me, Louis... he wouldn't. He'd constantly feed me some bull shit that he just needed time alone... or he was just dealing with stress... then, he suddenly got this car and this house... and I knew something was going on. My gut kept telling me something wasn't right..."
He sighed a little and sat back again, "but no matter how many times I watched Harry break down, he'd never tell me the complete truth. I sat with him a lot when he was like that... we'd end up watching really lame movies with the munchies in his room..."
I smiled a little and so did Zayn. "You were there for him, though, when no one else was. I know Harry loves you for that."
Zayn breathed out a heavy sigh and replied softly, "I know he does, too."
We soon pulled onto Darren's street, Harry's car sitting there. I watched Zayn turning the engine off and his eyes staying on Darren's flat.
"We're doing this," I spoke up.
He looked back at me, his eyes staying serious, "yeah, we're fucking doing this."